Another one of the benefits of the PMC Conference being in Indiana, is that Indiana is were my father grew up and were some of my relatives live. My father was born in East Chicago a poor working class neighborhood. He didn’t grow up with very much, not much at all. I wanted to take this trip during the last conference but didn’t plan ahead. I wanted to see as an adult were my father grew up. The time I was at this house was when I was about 8 or 9. I remember very little, except that it was the first time I had seen a gas stove and the first time I had seem a claw foot tub. Of course my fondest memory was of my grandmother. We’d walk down the street to the bakery and get fresh bread. In the mornings we’d get up early and feed the old bread to the birds. I loved her way of showing me new, different and interesting things. One of things that I still carry with me today is that I drink my tea with a little sugar and milk. Funny I had forgotten exactly where I picked that habit until just now.
The house bears little resemblance to the house I remember. The house I remember was filled with warmth, and joy and this house was just a house.
Looks cold a dreary. The neighborhood, let me just say we kept the car moving while I took the picture. I’m sure the residents were wondering why we kept driving by.
This was the bridge leading into the neighborhood. One of the rustiest bridges I’ve even seen!
